Under the Weather
by blackangus
Summary: This is just a piece of fluff involving Peter Gunn and Edie Hart. The plot is briefly referenced in my story "A Lifetime in Eight Days".


**I own neither Peter Gunn nor Edie Hart and make no profit, monetary or otherwise, from the use of their characters or any other characters from "Peter Gunn".**

_This story is just a piece of fluff and is briefly referenced in another "Peter Gunn" fan fiction. Yes, Peter Gunn is a private investigator and Edie Hart is his girl singer. But they still live the normal lives of normal people. Stuff happens._

**Under the Weather**

Peter Gunn made his way through the door of Mother's, eased past the lady in question without so much as a word of greeting, and plopped his tired body down on the second stool from the front. He managed to give Barney a thankful smile as the bartender set a cold bottle of Coke on the bar in front of him. The private investigator chugged the soda down in a couple of long swallows and then gave a satisfied sigh and pushed the empty bottle back across the bar.

"Hiya, Pete." Mother left her perch near the cash register and went over to stand next to the tall dark-haired man, offering up a sternly affectionate smile as her dark gaze took in his somewhat bedraggled appearance. It looked out of place on him. The jacket of his light gray suit was slightly scuffed and the pocket handkerchief looked as if it had been balled up and stuck in haphazardly. His hair was damp from the cold rain that had been coming down off and on all day and half of the previous night.

"Hello, Mother." His blue eyes smiled back at the rangy woman who towered over most men. The woman's sharp gaze detected a bruise high on the PI's left cheekbone. It was obvious he'd been in some sort of tussle.

"Long day?"

"You could say that." His gaze went to the door as it swung wide once again, admitting Wendy Iverson and Betty Kendrick, two of the jazz club's three waitresses, both quickly closing umbrellas as they entered, a sudden gust of wind pushing the door open again as Wendy had it almost shut. Pete hid a smile as Barney dropped the towel he was using to dry a glass and rushed over to help. Edie swore something was going on between those two and he'd come to the conclusion she just might be right.

The PI dug beneath his suit jacket and pulled a pack of Luckies from the breast pocket of his shirt. He glanced toward the stage and gave a respectful nod to Emmett and the other guys as they settled in to rehearse the evening's sets then returned his attention to the tall woman who had moved from his side and stepped behind the bar. Pete lit his cigarette and returned his lighter to his pocket, watching in silence as Mother began her pre-opening routine of sorting out the petty cash, making certain she had all the nickels and dimes she needed to make change and filling the paper-money slots with a lot of ones and a few more fives and tens than usual. The four or five bracelets gracing each large wrist jangled with every movement of her hands and the several long rhinestone necklaces that draped the front of her green and gold patterned dress dipped almost into the cash drawer as she bent over her chore.

"Expecting a big night, Mother?" the dark-haired man teased, lips tilting in amusement. This being Friday there would be a few more big spenders in the evening crowd than during the preceding weeknights.

"Oh, shut up." She broke a roll of pennies. "Tell me again why I keep this place open?"

"Helps keep these guys off the streets." His smile broadened to crinkle the corners of his eyes as he motioned with his head toward the combo, which had begun playing a rather somnolent rendition of "Lover Man". He turned on the stool, leaned one elbow on the bar and blew a stream of smoke ceiling-ward as he listened to the music.

"Oh, I almost forgot – " Mother paused in her counting and caught his attention with a gimlet stare. "Edie phoned. She said if you came by I was to ask you to call her." Her scratchy voice took on a tone of worry as she continued. "She sounded just terrible, Pete. Coughed the entire time we were talking. Didn't the doctor give her anything for that?"

"He told her to keep taking the cough syrup, try Dristan for the congestion, drink plenty of liquids and get some rest – the usual spiel. I don't think he's certain yet whether its the flu or just a bad cold."

Pete slid off the stool and reached into his pants pocket for a dime as he stepped to the payphone, leaning toward the bar to stub out his cigarette in an ashtray when he heard the tinny ring of the telephone begin on the other end of the line. The concerned frown that furrowed his brow by the fifth ring cleared at the sound of Edie Hart's sleepy hello.

"Hi, Silly." He smiled as she hummed a greeting. "You behaving yourself?"

"_I don't have buch choice,"_ she croaked around a sore throat and stuffy nose._ "You're not here to corrupt by wobanly virtue."_

The PI gave a chuckle and leaned a broad shoulder against the wall. At least her sense of humor hadn't deserted her.

"Mother said you were looking for me."

"_Aren't I always?" _Edie teased through a sniffle.

She told him the doctor's office had called, the nurse informing her that Dr. Beamer had written a prescription for an antibiotic. Just to be on the safe side. He was of the opinion that she most likely did have the flu accompanied by an ear infection. The office would be open this evening until six o'clock and she wondered if he might have time to run by and pick up the prescription and drop it at Miller's Rexall. Pete gave his wristwatch a quick glance. He could stop at his apartment to shower and put on clean clothes and still make it to the doctor's office with thirty minutes to spare.

* * *

Wearing white cotton pajamas and a blue robe, Edie Hart's eyes followed Peter Gunn's every movement as he dipped a hand into a medium-sized brown paper bag and brought out a tall container. The bag had Dickie's Deli written on one side, on the opposite side was the image of a Reuben sandwich sporting bulging eyes and a big grin along with the deli's motto "We Keep Our Customers Smiling". Pete pried the lid from the container, the mouth-watering aroma of steaming chicken noodle soup filling the small kitchen, and reached into an upper cabinet for a bowl.

"It shouldn't take me more than half an hour to get your prescription filled. You can eat while I'm gone." Finding a ladle in the second drawer he opened, he filled the bowl with soup and set it on the table along with a package of saltine crackers from the box in the cabinet next to the refrigerator. "It's still too hot I think. Need me to pick up anything else while I'm at the drugstore?" He poured the remainder of the soup into a lidded pink Pyrex dish from another cabinet, saying he'd drop the deli container back at Dickie's on his way to the drugstore.

"Well... I guess as long as you're there – " She sighed, pushing her hair away from her flushed face and turning through the kitchen doorway into the living room and then into her bedroom. "I'd planned to do somb shopping toborrow but that's – " She sneezed and sneezed again and accepted the crisp white hankie Pete pulled from the pocket of his suit jacket as he followed behind.

Edie shook a couple aspirin from the bottle on the bathroom counter, swallowed them with a sip of water, counted the five that remained and asked him to please bring back another bottle. And maybe the Dristan the doctor mentioned. She chewed at her bottom lip and gave the man an indecisive stare before opening a cabinet door and ruminating on the various necessities inside, checking first one package and then another. Tampons. Only a few remained in the pink Modess box. And the larger Kotex package was almost empty, too. She knew she'd need one or the other within a few days. She opened the door wider to give the PI a better view.

"Would you bind...?" She blew her nose, which seemed to be alternating between stuffy and runny, into Pete's handkerchief.

Pete scratched his nose and looked at the boxes and Edie could swear he blushed. Must be the lighting in that corner she decided and sneezed again. And followed that one up with another. They seemed to be coming in twos today. She folded the handkerchief over and watched as Pete gingerly picked up first the one box then the other and appeared to make mental notes of their shapes, sizes and brand names.

"Uh... look, honey..." He shifted uncomfortably and wondered if maybe Mother could pick up the things for her but one look at her pale face kept the words from coming out. He supposed he could ask the older woman himself... No. No, he couldn't. Never ever would he approach Mother with a request like that. He could feel himself sinking into the floor at just the thought of it. Pete cleared his throat. "Uh... where exactly do I find these..." he made a little wave with the box he still held, trying hard not to look at it aghast, "...at Miller's?"

"The second aisle frob the back. At the end opposite the prescription counter on the left side." Edie decided he looked almost as miserable as she felt but was doing an admirable job of covering up. "I'b sorry, Pete. Baybe I should go with you?"

"What? Forget it." He gave a wry smile and set the Kotex box back where he'd found it and closed the cabinet. "Anything else?" A box of Kleenex and a jar of Vicks.

* * *

Jack Miller turned his head as the bell above the door tinkled. He sent a welcoming grin in the direction of the tall well-dressed private investigator who entered the drugstore.

"Be with you in just a second, Pete." The sandy-haired druggist placed the last item in his customer's bag, rang up the total and collected change from the cash register drawer and with a smile counted it out to the young woman.

Pete raised a hand in greeting and reached for a carry-all basket, then held the door open for the shapely brunette as she passed him by. He nodded politely, seemingly oblivious to her brazen smile and interested gaze as she looked him up and down, and let the door fall shut behind her.

"How are things, Pete?" Jack rebuttoned his neat white smock and moved to the end of the glass counter to straighten the aspirin display. Then he took a couple bottles of cough syrup from one of the shelves on the wall behind the counter and placed them in empty slots in the cardboard display next to the aspirin. "I saw your name in the newspaper the other day connected with the case of that murdered boxer. Tony Triano." He pushed his black-rimmed glasses further up his nose, leaned his forearms on the counter and raised an eyebrow as Pete approached. "It's a shame what goes on these days isn't it?"

"Sure is, Jack." Pete reached into his inside jacket pocket for the prescription form and handed it to his friend. "Edie said she called to tell you I'd pick this up for her."

"She sure did. Give me about ten minutes and I'll have it ready for you."

The PI said there was no hurry, he had a few other items to look for. Roaming the store at a leisurely pace, he picked a carton of Lucky Strikes from a shelf and dropped it into his basket. Passing the magazine section he selected the current edition of _McCall's_ for Edie, chuckled over the cover of _True_ _Story_ and got that one for her, then wondered if _Redbook_ might be something she would look at and tossed it into the basket. He raised an eyebrow at _Daring Detective_ and shook his head but plucked _Cosmopolitan _from the rack and added it to the pile. Anything to keep her occupied. Finding the next aisle he picked up a pack of razor blades and a small can of Barbasol for himself. He found the Kleenex and the Vicks, grabbed a couple packages of Smith Brothers cough drops and then found himself in the women's aisle. He gave a mental sigh. At the end on the left side Edie had said.

The box of Kotex was easy to find, it was blue and advertised itself as the regular size. Pete was pretty sure that was the right one but suddenly found himself wondering what the difference was between the regular and super sizes. He put the box in the basket, his gaze sliding along the shelf in search of the smaller box of Modess. When it didn't jump right out at him he frowned and rubbed the side of his nose.

"Young man... can I help you find something?"

The PI jumped at the sound of the woman's voice and straightened to look behind him. She was a nice-looking, well-dressed older woman. A pair of ancient gold-rimmed pince nez eyeglasses decorated her face, the bobby pin chain looped over her right ear. A curly bonnet of gray hair was topped with a bright blue pillbox hat of almost exactly the same color as her dress, which was offset by the shining string of pearls gracing her neck and the matching brooch high on her left shoulder. Pete's lips tilted in a polite smile as he watched the woman's gaze drop curiously to the shopping basket he'd set on the floor.

"No, ma'am, but th – "

"Doing some shopping for your wife? I must say, she should be very appreciative, a man doing a thing like that. I was married for fifty-three years to my late husband Elbert and never _once_ did he take a step into the women's department in any store he _ever_ entered. It's nice to see a man who doesn't consider carrying out some of the duties of his wife to be beneath his dignity. Doesn't at _all_ hurt a man's standing to be seen picking up sanitary napkins and the like. God created us all equal, that's what I always say."

"Well, I'm – " The PI shifted from one foot to the other and glanced around, hoping that no one else was within earshot. The woman had a voice that carried.

"Home with the influenza is she?" The widow of deceased, and apparently insensitive, Elbert took note of the cough drops, Vicks and Kleenex in the carry-all basket and Pete was certain he saw her lips thin at the _Cosmopolitan_. Good thing the _True_ _Story_ wasn't on top. "Or the children are down with it perhaps? I _must_ say, these last several years have been the _worst_ for the influenza in recent memory. I can't remember another time when _so_ many were taken ill and bedridden."

"Well, I suppose – "

"Unless it was back in the year nineteen and eighteen. My own dear younger sister died during that outbreak. Ellie was her name. She was only twenty-nine. And her little boy Leon who was eight. It was a _terrible_ time, just _terrible_. But they've come up with _such_ good medicines since then – I hear they've developed a _vaccine_ even, after that terrible Asian flu we just had – and people are healthier than ever before so I'm sure you and and your wife have nothing at _all_ to worry about."

From the corner of his eye Pete could see Jack Miller standing behind his counter trying hard not to laugh. Had the ten minutes passed already? The druggist waved his hand and raised his voice to echo across the aisle.

"Oh, Mrs. Brooks? Mrs. Brooks, your order is ready!"

"Jack seems to – " Pete motioned weakly in the other man's direction.

"Oh yes, he _is_ such a _nice_ man." The old woman smiled brightly and patted Pete's arm in a motherly fashion. "It was so very _good_ running into you again, dear boy! I'm happy I could help you find what you were looking for. And please say hello to that _dear_ wife of yours for me and tell her I missed seeing her. And the little ones, too. I'm sure they must be _quite_ grown by now." She smiled serenely and strode primly away.

Pete stared after her nonplussed then released a long breath and turned his attention back to the display of feminine, well... necessities. He guessed that was the word for them. He finally found what he was looking for on the third shelf down. The pink box of Modess tampons. But there were also different sized boxes in several other colors. As he stood there uncertainly Jack Miller's daughter, a cute red-haired freckle-faced girl of seventeen who helped around the store some evenings, came around the corner and paused beside him.

"Dad has Miss Hart's prescription ready." She looked up at him with the clear eyes of youth and offered up an ingenuous smile. "Need some help?"

"Well, uh..." Feeling somewhat embarrassed he looked from her to the pink tampon box he'd picked up, wondering if there was some way he could make himself disappear. "Is there a difference..." He motioned to the various other boxes on the shelf. "Are the small box and the large box the same?"

"The small box contains ten and the big box has forty. And there's three different sizes – junior, regular and super." She indicated the package he was holding. "The pink box is regular, the green box is super – "

"Uh, yeah... thanks," he hurriedly interrupted. "I'll just take these – " Then the horrible thought tripped across his mind that Edie might send him out again if her flu lingered. But surely a box of ten was enough. More than enough. How many could a woman use up in four or five days anyway? Plus there was the package of Kotex that advertised – he glanced into the carry-all basket – twelve. And there had still been a few in each of those boxes in the cupboard. More than enough, he mentally repeated to himself. If she had wanted more she would have said. But then again –

"On second thought – " He quickly exchanged the ten-pack for the forty-pack and dropped it into his basket, deciding better safe than sorry. The PI opened his mouth to thank the girl but ended up just giving her a halfhearted nod and then doing an abrupt about-face to the prescription counter.

Jack Miller didn't say a word as he emptied the carry-all basket and rang up the prices but his eyes held a hint of mirth when he lifted his head to ask the PI if there might be anything else he needed. Pete requested a large bottle of aspirin, decided another bottle of the cherry-flavored cough syrup might be a good idea – the one Edie was working on looked to be several years old and had only a few spoonfuls remaining – and mentioned the Dristan, which Jack plucked from a display.

"The Dristan contains aspirin, too, so make sure she doesn't overdo it." He placed all the items in a bag and then rang up the prescription, which he'd placed in a smaller bag by itself after having Pete sign for it, gave a total and handed Pete his change. The druggist shook his head as he watched the tall PI walk away, then broke into a loud chuckle after the door swung shut behind him.

* * *

Pete crumbled a couple saltines into his bowl of chicken noodle soup and watched Edie blow on a piping hot spoonful from her own bowl and bring it to her lips. He'd reheated the soup in a pot on the stove after returning to the woman's apartment and finding she hadn't eaten what he'd prepared for her before leaving on his errand to the drugstore. "I didn't feel like eating alone," she'd told him with a sneeze.

Edie chewed noodles and swallowed. The hot broth of the soup felt good on the back of her sore throat and warmed her all the way on its journey to her stomach. The steaming heat of it even seemed to clear her sinuses, allowing her to breathe a little easier. She eyed the man sitting katty-corner from her at the small kitchen table. He had draped his jacket over the back of his chair, loosened his tie and rolled up his shirtsleeves.

"You look tired." She absently stirred her soup, her blue gaze drinking him in. "And it's still cold and rainy outside. I'b sorry you had to run around town just for be."

"I'd do anything just for you," he countered, putting down his spoon and reaching out to tuck a stray wisp of hair behind her ear. His fingers lingered against her temple and he decided that if her fever was anything to go by the doctor had been right in deciding she had something more than just a plain cold.

"You're nice." She gave him a tired smile and looked over at the shopping bag that had yet to be emptied. "Did you have trouble finding anything?"

"There were a couple women who were kind enough to help me out." He reached for the bottle of orange juice and replenished her almost empty glass. The need for liquids had been re-emphasized by the office nurse when he'd picked up the prescription.

"Oh?" The blonde's gaze narrowed at his bland expression.

"A very nice old lady thought I was the cat's meow because I was secure enough in my manliness to buy sanitary napkins for my wife."

Edie choked on a spoonful of soup, the ensuing coughing fit having nothing at all to do with the flu she'd more than likely picked up from her friend Sheila Bell. She grabbed for Pete's handkerchief that she'd stuffed into the pocket of her robe and coughed into it, feeling the soup welling up at the back of her throat and praying she wouldn't sneeze noodles and bits of chicken all over the kitchen table. As she continued to cough into the hankie she felt Pete's hand at her back, gently pounding as one was prone to do in such a situation, his concerned voice asking if she was all right. Was that laughter mixed with the concern? Surely not. She peeked at him over the square of white cloth and swore she caught him trying to hide a smile.

"I hope you didn't shatter the poor woban's illusions," Edie gasped and couldn't help but laugh. Her cheeks were flushed an even brighter shade of pink from the exertion of coughing, a sheen of perspiration enhancing the rosy color.

"She sent along her regards to you and the children." The PI's lips tilted in a smile. "Do you know how funny you sound?"

The woman's eyes rounded innocently and another tired grin lit her face. Her hand crept to his and their fingers tangled.

"You didn't tell be she was a clairvoyant," she teased. "Did she happen to bention how bany and what their nabes are?"

Pete couldn't help himself and leaned in to give her a not-so-innocent kiss. His blue eyes smiled into hers when he lifted his head.

"You'll catch the flu too if you keep doing that, Bister Gunn."

"It's a little late to worry. A poster on the wall in the doctor's office said a person can be contagious the day before they have symptoms and up to a week after becoming sick." The PI offered a teasing smile and gave her fingers a squeeze. "Besides, I've never had the flu in my life. I think the odds are with me."

"Fabous last words." Edie had finished eating and her eyelids were beginning to droop. "The big bad private investigator thinks he's ibbune..."

"I think I need to get you into bed."

"Under norbal circubstances I'd ask what's taking you so long." She yawned widely.

"Come on." He stacked the bowls and silverware in the sink. "The dishes can wait."

A few minutes later Edie was standing beneath the heated water of the walk-in shower, trying to wash away the sticky feeling that seemed to have been welling up inside her all afternoon, while at the same time attempting to warm herself against intermittent chills. While she showered, Pete locked up the apartment, turned off a few lights and fetched the drugstore items into the bathroom. When she emerged from the shower he enveloped her in a big fluffy towel and helped her dry off, then used a smaller towel to dry her hair as completely as possible before helping her into clean pajamas.

"I don't remember seeing these before." He pushed the last button through its hole as she eyed him with a bemused gaze. The pajamas were of a light pink silky material, the shirt sporting darker pink trim around the edges and on the pocket.

"You bean there are still a few secrets about be you don't know about?"

"Well..." Pete eyed the drugstore shopping bag as he removed Edie's prescription from the smaller white one and handed the little bottle to her, looking on as she ran some water into a small glass to swallow an antibiotic tablet down with. "After today I'm not so sure. How does your ear feel?"

"It doesn't hurt as buch since I took the aspirin earlier. But it feels like there's sobething stuck inside by ear," she grumped. She shivered, coughed and sneezed.

Pete reached inside the shopping bag and removed the box of Kotex and watched Edie open the cabinet door and place it inside. She accepted the pink box of Modess tampons, her eyebrows going up as she registered the size. Forty?

"_Forty_? Didn't they have a – "

Edie paused at the expression on the PI's face. She didn't think she'd ever seen that exact look on Peter Gunn before. That little muscle was working in his jaw but not because he was angry. Embarrassed? Surely not. Pete Gunn? Just because...? She bit back a smile.

"Umb... this size is fine. They'll last be a long time. Thank you, Pete." She stuck the box with the others in the cabinet and closed the door and then looked on as he emptied the remaining contents of the bag onto the counter.

Aspirin, the big bottle. Dristan, the large bottle. Kleenex, the jumbo box. Vicks, the large jar. Smith Brothers cough drops, wild cherry flavor, two packages. Cough syrup, cherry flavor, the large size. The man certainly didn't do things by halves. Edie managed to hold her tongue. Pete set the razor blades and can of Barbasol off to one side and handed her the magazines. Having left the carton of Lucky Strikes in the glove compartment of the DeSoto, he folded the bag to take to the kitchen.

"I'd better find you in bed when I get back."

The blonde gave him the sauciest smile she was able to conjure up and shook her head dolefully at his retreating back. When Pete returned to the bedroom she was sitting up in bed with a pillow against her back and the sheet and quilt pulled warmly around her, the magazines on her lap, Vicks under her nose and a cough drop in her mouth. She watched him sit down on the edge of the bed and pull his shoes off.

"Are you staying?" she asked sedately, trying to keep the hopeful tone out of her voice. If the smile in his eyes was anything to go by she hadn't succeeded.

"Unless you and your flu would rather be alone together."

"Very funny."

"Anything interesting in the magazines?" Pete slipped the tie from beneath the collar of his white Brooks Brothers dress shirt and tossed it over the back of the bedroom chair, the shirt and his dark gray pants quickly following.

Edie looked down at the _McCall's_. A pretty young model, wearing a fluffy white jacket and black gloves, graced the red cover advertising Paris fashion.

"This one has an article called '84 Ways to Bake Barriage Bore Exciting'."

The PI's forehead furrowed with a puzzled frown as he pulled his t-shirt over his head. He sat back down on the edge of the bed and removed his socks and leaned in to get a look at the magazine cover – '84 Ways to Make Marriage More Exciting'. That made better sense. He tossed his socks in the direction of his shoes and missed by about six inches.

"Only eighty-four?" He gave Edie a quick wink as she flipped through the pages. "The writer apparently doesn't have much imagination."

"I suppose I can save it for future reference," the blonde mused with a long-suffering but affectionate sigh that Pete pretended to ignore. She lay the _McCall's_ aside and picked up the October issue of _Cosmopolitan_. "Here's a piece titled 'New Light on a Vexing Barital Problem' and another one called 'How Psychoanalysis Broke Up By Barriage' ".

"What's the problem?"

"What problemb?"

"The vexing marital problem." He stood and turned to look down at her.

"I don't know... baybe the husband leaves his dirty socks lying around on the bedroob floor." She offered the magazine. "Want to read it and find out?"

"Maybe some other time," he said with an amused smile. Opening a dresser drawer he reached in for a pair of clean boxers and disappeared into the bathroom. "Is that all those magazines talk about? Marital bliss or the lack thereof?" he asked over his shoulder.

"Sex sells," Edie commented and sneezed.

She felt a sudden chill as the bed covers were lifted and then the mattress dipped as Pete slid into bed beside her.

"I'b cold!" She grabbed at the quilt and sneezed again.

The magazines fell to the floor as she struggled to get back under the covers and the PI took that opportunity to switch off the nightstand lamp.

"Come here, Silly, I'll warm you up."

He gathered her close to his chest and got the covers situated over both of them until only their heads were exposed to the air.

"Pete?"

"Hmm?" It felt good to hold her in his arms even with her runny nose and fever.

"Do you think you could run by Francine's in the borning and pick up a dress she altered for be? The shop is only open until eleven on Saturdays and I told her I'd be there before closing tibe." Her arm settled comfortably around his middle and she thought how nice and warm his body felt against her.

Pete turned his face into the pillow and attempted to stifle a sneeze.

"Pete– " Edie sat up.

"It was just a sneeze." He rolled over and groped for a Kleenex from the new jumbo box he'd placed on the nightstand. "Everybody sneezes. Being out in the rain and cold all last night and most of today is finally catching up with me. The dress shop?" Next thing he knew she'd be sending him off to the A&P for hot chocolate and cookies. He grinned to himself.

"Did you find the woban who fit into the bysterious shoes?"

It was a funny job that had dropped into the PI's lap the previous night. A middle-aged widower had returned home from his bank job at the end of a normally boring day to discover a pair of women's green high heels in the middle of his living room floor. All of the doors and windows in the apartment had been tightly locked and only two other people had access to a key – the landlord and the cleaning lady who he paid to come in half a day every Tuesday.

"I think he hoped he had a secret admirer," Pete chuckled. "It didn't turn out that way. I'll tell you all about it tomorrow."

He felt her hand on his forehead.

"Pete– honey, you have a fever."

"It's just your imagination. I'm fine." He sneezed. And sneezed again for good measure.

The sound of the woman's soft laugh filled the comfortable half-darkness, the pole light at the next corner sending a mediocre glow through the curtain to land softly on the bed.

"Didn't I say?"

"What?"

"Fabous last words."

* * *

_(Referenced episode: Boxer Tony Triano is murdered in "Rough Buck" S1 EP8; story is written from a reference in my fanfic "A Lifetime in Eight Days".)_


End file.
